


The Third Time's the Charm

by Rev



Category: Working at an Amusement Park - Girl_from_the_crypt
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, I'm sorry I did Dale a dirty, M/M, Magical Contracts, No Beta, Non-Consensual Kissing, Sock-Pupper is a Good Boy, Transformation, Warin isn't as bad as he seems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23942755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rev/pseuds/Rev
Summary: An Alternate Universe take on the "I Work at an Amusement Park..." Nosleep series by u/girl_from_the_crypt. In which Warin actually does get the girl.
Relationships: Cowboy | Warin/Leah (Working at an Amusement Park), Dale/Nathan (Working at an Amusement Park)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 25





	1. The Beginning

After a long winter in 1832, Conn McCoy had had enough. He made a pittance as a butcher in Dublin and he was unable to make the life he wished for his wife a reality. Across the ocean, the Americans were just giving away free land to anyone who wished to settle it, and while it sounded difficult, he was no stranger to hard work. He would do anything if it meant making Siobhan happy. They sold their possessions and boarded a boat that brought them to the burgeoning city of New York.

Unfortunately, life was not easy even in the new land. Popular sentiment against the Irish meant that Conn had difficulty finding a job, and without more money, they could not make the trip out West to claim land. Grudgingly, he went back to his old profession for a slightly larger pittance. In time, Conn and Siobhan bought a house and had three sons. Though he could not realize his dream of success himself, Conn passed the dream onto his sons. The eldest, Liam, moved to Tennessee and became a farmer. The middle son, Brendan, left for Texas to become a rancher. The youngest, Patrick, stayed behind to care for his parents as they grew older. Having been taught to read and write by a kindly priest back in Ireland, Conn made sure his boys knew as well. Though the postal service was slow and sometimes unreliable, the three brothers kept in contact. When Conn’s health deteriorated after a bout with the flu one winter, the McCoy brothers made a pact to get together on unbroken land after their parents passed so that they might make the old man’s dream a reality. The next year in 1886, both parents passed away.

Liam McCoy sold what produce he could salvage after a drought, and his land, and packed his family into a wagon and set off for Colorado. Brendan McCoy sold off half his remaining cattle that hadn’t been lost in a flood, his homestead and land, and similarly packed up his wife and two children into a wagon and went north. Patrick McCoy and his family followed by train after selling his parent’s home and possessions. They met up in Denver, pooled their resources and found a plot of land no one else had taken. It appeared to be perfect. The trees were strong and healthy and would make good cabins and fence posts. The meadows were fertile and green, and the soil would grow healthy crops. The foothills were well supplied with water and not so steep that cattle wouldn’t thrive. The future they envisioned for themselves was one of success. Popular at the time were shows like Buffalo Bill’s Wild West, which toured across America and Europe. In addition, Patrick had loved taking in the sights and rides at Coney Island, New York. With Denver becoming a thriving metropolis, the McCoy family felt that a fairground where families could be entertained, and rodeos and competitions could be held was a great future investment. They just had to build it. So, they bought the land and moved onto it, living out of their tents and wagons until better shelter could be built. The trouble started shortly after they started harvesting the first stand of Cottonwood trees.

The McCoy brothers, by this time, were middle-aged or older, and their children ranged in age from children to adults. Liam’s eldest son had a whirlwind courtship with a young lady from Denver named Faith. Faith fell pregnant quickly, so she and John McCoy were married, and she came to live on the homestead. When the first trees were set to saw and axe, Faith suffered cramps and bleeding. As the trees fell, the pain grew, and she went into labour though she was not due for another four months. The loss was mourned, but such things happened now and then, and John went back to work with his family.

The skeletal structure of the large log cabin the family was to live in was done and they had begun working on walls when Patrick’s only son, a six-year old boy named Lawrence, disappeared. The family dropped everything, searched high and low and even tried to track him, but he was not to be found. After a week, he was presumed dead. Work resumed on the cabin. Then five-year old Millie disappeared.

Brendan McCoy had two children. Colt was the product of his first marriage. His wife had become pregnant again a few years later, but she died in childbirth and the child had not survived either. Some years later, Brendan remarried, and they had another baby. As a result, Colt was in his early thirties and Millie was a child. Colt had not married, an unfortunate thing he blamed on his facial deformity, a cleft palate. He was never bitter about it, merely dedicated to helping his family. Before leaving for Colorado, Colt had trained briefly with a blacksmith. Though he had not had time to learn much, he did figure out how to melt down some metals and how to shape them as they cooled. With ammunition being expensive and their family needing to be thrifty, Cold attempted to make their own ammunition with iron. They were not very effective, but they could be used. With his pistol loaded with two regular bullets and three homemade, Colt went out looking for Millie with his family. After a week, they urged him to stop looking and return home to work. Colt refused. Millie was the baby of the family and he would not abandon her. For another week he lived off provisions and the land, growing lean and thin and more desperate. And then he found them.

Beside a great, old tree that had fallen in years past was a large hole in the ground. Sitting on the tree was an odd man wearing rags, the likes of which Colt had never seen before. He was tall, lanky, with skin the color of slate and messy, shoulder-length hair like snow. His eyes were narrow and cat-like, the vibrant blue of a deep stream in winter, and his ears were long and pointed. He was grinning and his sharp teeth seemed made of hematite – dark, but not unhealthy. The stranger was holding Millie, who appeared to be sleeping peacefully. It should be noted that Conn McCoy had been a practical man who had eschewed the superstition of his kinsmen. His children were not told tales of the Celtic heroes of old, Gods or Goddesses, nor of the Fae and how to placate them, and thus Colt knew nothing of them. Colt dismounted from his horse, drew his gun on the stranger and demanded,

“You have my sister, sir. Give her back, and we’ll have no quarrel.”

The strange man merely tilted his head and asked,

“ _Your name, may I have it?”_ His voice was odd, like no human Colt had ever heard. Though he understood it clearly, it seemed like he was hearing the echoes of distant thunder and the whispers of wheatgrass in the breeze. The question also made him uneasy for reasons he couldn’t put into words and so he did not answer. Instead, he yelled,

“Give me back my sister, or I will shoot you!”

The stranger made no answer, instead got up and put the girl down where she continued to sleep on the soft grass. His long legs ate the space between them quickly and Colt panicked. He shot the strange man twice. The regular bullets had been loaded into the cylinder first, and they hit him in the stomach. The odd man doubled over for a second then glanced up and grinned terribly in promise at Colt, and continued walking towards him. The place on his stomach where he’d been shot showed no mark, no blood. Further frightened, Colt backed up a step but he would not run when Millie still needed help and so he shot the stranger with his last three bullets, fully expecting them to be even less effective than the first two. But the last bullets were iron, and they struck the stranger in the chest. He fell over clutching his wounds and screamed, the terrible, inhuman sound reverberating through the trees. Colt burst past him and picked up his sister, then ran back to find his horse, which had bolted when the creature started wailing. The sound of agonized shrieking followed him for hours. When they finally arrived at the homestead, the family was spooked, as the woods had been silent since he had confronted the strange man. They remained silent even into the next day. As joyous as Millie’s rescue was, the McCoys couldn’t help but be wary. That night, a group of strange creatures emerged from the woods and surrounded the cabin.

There were seven of them, and they all resembled in part the strange man who had kidnapped Millie, but they also had characteristics that reminded the McCoys of the land around them. There was a large creature with eyes like flint who resembled a boulder. One of the others was a willowy woman who could almost have been mistaken for a tree. Another scuttled like a spider and his eyes were dark and beady. Yet another had antlers like a deer. Leading the group was the man whom Colt had shot. Though he showed no pain, his wounds oozed sluggishly, and his teeth appeared to have turned as dark as charcoal. He was gaunter and paler than before, and he drooled a black, pitch-like substance. The McCoys armed themselves and prepared to fight. Only the men stepped out of the cabin, which was now mostly complete. To their surprise, only the wounded one stepped forward, arms held up for peace.

“ _We would make a deal, if you are amenable.”_ Only Colt could know, but the creature’s voice had changed. There was a sharper quality to it, like metal screeching upon metal. It was unnerving. As the only one experienced in dealing with these creatures, the McCoys let Colt take the lead. He stepped forward.

“We don’t want any fightin’, what do you propose?”

“ _Peace, and a mutually beneficial arrangement. You came here and you are destroying our home, so we sought to deter you, but it is clear that you will not be driven away. We can help, if you would only concede to a few simple requests.”_

Colt looked askance at his father and uncles, wondering if it were a good idea to deal with creatures like these. By silent glances they communicated that at least they should be heard. Colt himself had no desire to lose any more family.

“We’re listening.”

“ _We will reshape our land as you will, if you offer us tribute – what we ask, when we ask. We will make you wealthy. Is this not all you’ve wanted?”_ The wounded one tilted his head at them, pale eyes studying and assessing.

“What about our boy, Lawrence. Where is he?”, Colt demanded.

The leader chuckled, and it sounded like nails on a blackboard. “ _He will be returned, if you agree_.”

“Then yes, if you will make not just me but my family also successful, and return Lawrence, then I accept your terms, but I have others I’d like to add.” The creature looked a little disappointed by Colt’s addendum, but he said nothing against it.

“ _Go on_.”

“My family, an’ your people, there’ll be no fightin’ between ‘em. If that rule gets broken, then whoever was wronged gets an eye for an eye, alright?” The leader smirked, and Colt was dismayed by it’s expression. Had he said something wrong?

“ _I would add, I will stay on the surface to enforce the contract, along with two kin of my choosing. There will be no threats, verbal or physical. Are we clear?_ ”

“Like crystal,” Colt replied. “But if you’re staying here, I’ve got more rules. You can't leave the grounds, an' you and your kin can’t talk; it’ll scare people.” Colt did not add that he did not trust the creature’s words.

“ _Very well. Then you cannot tell anyone outside your family of our deal. Now I would have your names – can’t have a contract without names_.” Colt looked like he’d swallowed a quid of chew. Giving his name to this creature felt wrong. Nonetheless, it had a point.

“Colt.” The leader grinned and turned to Colt’s father in askance.

“You first, we’ll name ourselves in turn.” The creature’s face turned sour and Colt was certain his father had made the correct move.

“ _You can call me Warin. Now, your name!_ ”

“Brendan. Who else is staying on this property?”

Warin pointed to the spider-like creature. “ _That is Moth_.” He looked toward the next McCoy in line, the eldest brother.

“I’m Liam.”

Warin in turn shifted to the smallest creature beside him, a girl-child Colt might have called pixie-like, until the hair fell away from her face, revealing a beak full of sharp teeth and little else. The McCoys recoiled and Warin laughed loudly.

“ _Mulberry will also join us. Last!_ ” He turned to the youngest McCoy brother.

“Patrick,” the man intoned.

“ _Good, good. Now, let us seal the pact, shall we?_ ” Warin pulled a small knife from his belt and pulled it across the palm of his right hand. “ _We seal in blood_.” He moved toward Colt first, hand held out and dripping dark blood.

Colt was unable to conceal the disgust on his face, but he pulled a hunting knife from his belt anyway, sliced his palm, and shook the thing’s hand. He felt a frisson of something run through him briefly and wondered if he had imagined it. He passed the knife to his father, who shook and passed it on to his uncle. When the pact was done, Warin laughed and turned to Colt. With blinding speed, the creature dashed to the cowboy, grabbed his head, and snapped his neck. Colt’s body dropped limply to the ground. Brendan fumbled for his gun before Warin shook a finger at him. Slowly and with great glee, he pointed to the oozing wounds on his chest, then tapped the area below his right eye, and then pointed into Brendan’s eyes, and back to his own. _An eye for an eye_. Colt had attempted to kill Warin, so Warin had returned the favour, though only Warin succeeded.

That night, Liam and Patrick buried Colt. While they did so, the forest around them _changed_. The largest meadow became a ring where rodeos could be held. The trees around it became spectator stands. The stand of trembling aspen beside it became a Ferris wheel. A boulder nearby became a building. And inside the log cabin the McCoys had built, even as the forest around them transformed, Brendan McCoy mourned his only son with a bottle of moonshine.

The Park was established in 1901. Residents from all over the state and travelers who stopped in Denver were drawn to it. They especially enjoyed the laughing cowboy with the cleft lip who would not speak. After the first rodeo was held in the Park, the Cowboy gained a stagecoach and two horses. The next year, there was a new attraction, the Hound of Hell - a large, misshapen thing with horns, covered in black hair. If Brendan avoided the Park and its Cowboy and drank too much, well, no one could blame him. If Liam clenched his hands every time he saw the stagecoach, his family pretended not to notice. If Patrick scowled every time he laid eyes on the Beast of Hell, then that was his business. But Warin hadn’t lied. The McCoys became wealthy. In time, the family moved to California, leaving one heir to manage the Park. Safely away from it, they trained their future generations for the eventuality of the contract.


	2. The First Time

The years went on. The Park gained several actors in the form of the Mime, the Sugar-Plum Faerie, The Pianist, and the Diva. It also changed as the times changed. The grandstand for rodeos disappeared, and in its place rose attractions like the Drop of Doom, the House of Mirrors, and more recently, the Rosevale Asylum. In 2001, the Park celebrated its one-hundred-year anniversary. It was a doozy of a celebration – there were fireworks and loud music and parties, and if a guest ended up dead, then it was quickly covered up. A decade and a half later, there was a new Stagecoach Driver. Shortly thereafter, the actor employed as the Monster Hunter suffered an accident with the “actor” known as Mr. Scratch. A new Monster Hunter was hired.

In his position as guardian of the Park, Warin was always watching over the land. For all that Dale hid in his cups, he was a decent judge of character, unlike his father. The lesson learned from Laila had stuck (as well it should since her reminder was constant and graphic – a taunt and warning both). Leah’s first days as the Monster Hunter were rather unremarkable, though he found himself wanting to test her resolve and apparent kindness in person. Annoying Mitchell was a bonus, so he wandered off to the staff room in the horror section on a particularly boring day. As planned, the girl found him.

Warin was intrigued by her from their first meeting. Leah’s composure was easy to crack. Her fear as he provoked her was as sweet as the racing heart of a rabbit before it was torn to pieces. Her bravery as she rallied in the face of his unnaturalness was as inspiring as the last stand of a cornered elk. He was not certain exactly what inspired him to confess the never-healed iron wounds to her, but he felt oddly touched by the empathy in her eyes. After she finished looking ill, that is. Yet while this sheer goodness and humanity was something that initially rendered her beautiful to him, he very much ached to rip it from her with a ferocity that had already begun to verge on obsession. He had never wanted to curse the loss of his voice as much as he did then. How red would she blush if he could tease her? How many verbal knots could he tie her in with his trick-some words and slippery promises? Would she dance to his tune, as gullible as she seemed? Alas, Mitchell made his appearance, and Warin was bound by his own promises from so long ago.

He was content simply to observe and occasionally interact for a few years. But if humans are good at any one thing, it is their capacity to incite change. For all that he saw, he was not certain what started Leah’s investigation into the Park. But Warin was never one to ignore an opportunity to cause chaos, so he helped his favourite cast member by stealing Dale’s book when asked. He welcomed _any_ way to worm his way further into Leah’s trust. And finally, circumstances aligned in a way he could just not ignore.

He had been watching, as usual. It was amusing to see how close Leah could come to uncovering the truth. Her curiosity was endearing. There was too much detail bound by contractual silence though, for her to ever fully uncover the true nature of the Park, no matter what methods she employed. Mulberry had screeched and muttered of laurel and iron and the foresight she was occasionally gifted with was rarely wrong, so it was probable that his true nature would eventually be revealed, but he did enjoy playing the gallant Cowboy and seeing how long he could retain her trust. She had found the entrance to his (former) home and had disappeared into the darkness of the restroom some few minutes ago. It was not until the boy Darius had shown panic that he decided to act. It was an easy feat to enter after Leah.

He could feel it now, this close to the door. The wards that bound the entrance to his kin’s home had emphatically rejected the presence of iron, silver and laurel, the stench of which emanated from Leah’s backpack. As a result, she was unconscious on the tile floor. He could almost hear the muttering of the Elders from here. Doubtlessly, they would demand her head. Her foolishness might mean her doom. That would be... Unfortunate, as he was not willing to let her go just yet. He hummed for a moment while considering his options.

Perhaps he had been too long around humans – capricious creatures who took and stole and cheated for what they wanted, whether it be from others or the very land that sustained them, regardless of the consequences. He’d been too long without his own people, above the roots and the soil and the darkness as he lived, unbound by the tenets he existed by, his only companions those who’d lived so long they existed only with the ghosts of the past, their own memories. Or mayhap the iron in his body that caused him constant pain he could not rid himself of had corrupted him. Whatever the case, an opportunity had presented itself, and he seized it.

The offending items he dumped onto the ground by upending her bag. The very thought of touching those things was distasteful in the extreme. He left them where they fell, a silver bracelet, an iron nail, and a twig of laurel. The odds and ends – the sketchbook, the pencils, the map – that were not of forbidden materials he carefully packed back in, then zipped shut. And for the best part... He felt his mouth fill with saliva, a rivulet running from his cleft lip down his chin, hunger and anticipation entwining to make him grin widely. He knelt next to the girl on the floor. Leah’s face was relaxed, her breathing even, and he took a moment to run his hand down her cheek. There was an innocence to her that he would take great pleasure in breaking. Carefully, tenderly even, he tilted her chin to open her mouth just a little. With reverence and a softness he could not have been certain until now he had ever possessed, he leaned over to seal his lips over hers. His memories from before the Park were a little hazy, and he almost thought he should be concerned about that, but he was certain he’d never felt this way about anything or anyone before now. Leah was soft and warm, a counterpoint to his own cold, chapped lips. He breathed in; her scent almost heady now that he was on his way to getting what he wanted. He had not made his intent clear to Dale yet because Leah was not so dear to Dale that losing her would hurt him, and Warin had assumed that a good employee like Leah would be around for a while. Long enough that he might savour her naivety and trust for years before he ordered Dale to turn her over. Well, too late now. He opened his mouth.

The black, viscous substance he secreted as saliva dripped from him, into her mouth. Leah groaned in distress and tried to turn her head, but he held her still and enjoyed the moment. All the time he had spent now, in the Park, bled away and was made worth it for this very instant that seemed to go on forever. A fierce joy took hold in him, and it took all his willpower to pull away before giving her too much. It would not do for her to transform too quickly. If he wanted this game to end in his favour, he had to navigate both the Elders and the McCoys, because he had just broken the contract. He had not followed the rules by requesting Leah become his; he had merely taken, because a Pretender – a pale imitation of his kin – was not what he wanted this time. Dare he admit he wanted a companion? That was new, something that surprised even himself. He was not often given to sentiment. Carefully, he traced his fingers upon her lips, wiping the black substance from them so there would be no hint. She groaned again and her face twisted as though she were experiencing a nightmare, but Warin paid it no mind. He got to his feet with a sigh, taking the bag up with him as he moved. It went out the window first. Then he ducked and carefully picked Leah up and lowered her into the waiting arms of Darius. While he could have unlocked the washroom door to exit, he did not want Leah to endanger herself with the Elders anymore than she already had; it would force him to play his hand far earlier than he wanted to. So, he left back out the window.

Damn the contract. He would not be able to conceal his duplicity for long, not with Leah calling attention to herself with her curiosity, but the McCoy family would have little recourse when his own family held most of the leverage. The Elders would be displeased, but he found he did not care. A contract could be renegotiated, but Leah was like a flash of silver scales amongst river rapids – something to be caught and savoured now or never again. He had always loved a good hunt, a good chase. It had been too long. This hunt would not end in viscera and entrails and suffering, but it would be satisfying, nonetheless. Back in the saloon, his mood was buoyed for the rest of the night. He closed his eyes, hummed, and revisited the memory as he sat languidly, his feet up on the table, hat over his eyes, in the dark.


	3. Objects in Mirror Are Not as They Appear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein events start going off the rails.

Leah had been born in Colorado, had grown up in the area around the park and had been to the park a few times. How could she not? It was a local attraction, fun in the summer, with events taking place throughout the year. She couldn’t recall ever taking note of the non-Actors, but they seemed wholly unremarkable compared to the rest of the park (initially, at least). Who noticed a dancing ballerina when one was stuffing their face with cotton-candy? Who noticed a cowboy when adrenaline sang in your veins as you waited your turn at the foot of the tallest rollercoaster in the state? She never did attend regularly – her family didn’t have enough money for that – but she’d been there, and she had loved it. So, getting a job at the Park a couple years out of college was almost a dream. Sure, she could have gotten a job in her field (Veterinary medicine – though she was currently qualified to be an assistant if she did not continue her education), but she wasn’t having much luck with applying to jobs. When an old friend told her the Park was hiring (and paying above minimum wage!), she had jumped on the chance. She should have known the job would be far from ordinary when she filled out the application.

The questionnaire asked if she were physically fit, if she knew how to handle strange animals, if she could de-escalate tense situations, and if she could be discrete. With her college major, that was all part of her expertise. The job interview was just as strange. Her first impression of Dale McCoy was that he was a jerk and a drunk. He smelled like alcohol during the interview, and his clothing was rumpled and a little dirty. He seemed to care little for her, though he was awfully specific about the skills she would need. When she received an offer, she wasn’t certain whether she would accept the job or not, but she had rent to pay, and food wouldn’t magically fill her fridge. She took it. Her first day was by far the weirdest thing she had experienced in her twenty-plus years of life. Where did they get a giant monster that looked like a – a sock puppet, for lack of a better descriptor? It actually ate raw meat! And apparently it had attacked it’s previous handler. But that was really all part of the allure of working at the park. It was so strange, so far from ordinary. Why would she quit when she worked with mysterious entities that disguised themselves as actors? For someone who had been bored to tears by mundane life, working at the park was heaven! Leah bonded with her charge, Mr. Scratch - the Sock Puppet. She enjoyed her job, and while it didn’t pay great, it was definitely better than flipping burgers.

The actual actors consisted of her coworkers – Anne and Maxine in the Candyland section, Mitchell and Nathan in the Western section, Oliver and Caroline in the Hollywood section, and Darius and herself in the horror section. They were good coworkers, all very dependable and friendly. Some of them had been employed at their stations for years before she’d started. The non-actors were (of course) Mr. Scratch, a large, black, almost doll-like monster with horns in the horror section, along with the Nurse, a ravaged and bloody woman who stood catatonic in one of the haunted houses. In Candyland danced the Sugar-plum Faerie, a cute girl who when provoked, peeled back her face and bared a squid-like beak as well as the Mime, a spider-like person in black and white who entertained visitors by acting like his namesake. Hollywood had The Diva, an older, vain lady who loved to entertain her adoring fans until she was upset – in which case she shrivelled until she disappeared into glitter; and the Pianist, who simply sat in the restaurant and played the piano but had to be asked if he wanted anything at a specific time or else visitor would die. In the Western section were two non-actors (Pretenders, as Leah’s coworkers called them) – the Stagecoach, and the Laughing Cowboy. The Stagecoach was a simple coach with horses, though the horses needed no food or water or rest and could not be unhitched. The Laughing Cowboy was not a simple entity to discuss. Other than the Sock Puppet, the Cowboy intrigued her the most.

The Laughing Cowboy was the second Pretender she’d met after he’d hidden in her break room, away from his handler. He was unnerving, mysterious, and potentially undead. He might even have been cute if it weren’t for the rotting wounds he’d shown her, and cleft lip. Despite the Cowboy’s penchant for mischief, he had helped her out of a few scary situations involving the Sugar-plum Faerie, and the Mime. At her behest, he’d also stolen Dale’s notebook for her to read when she first became interested in investigating the park. He had also helped her after she’d accidentally gotten drunk with her boss. Not to self: whiskey bad. The Cowboy’s apparent good will not withstanding, there was still something about him that warned her on a deep level to stay away from him. Not that she listened – she felt drawn to him almost magnetically. Despite his unnerving presence, she did trust him.

It wasn’t just the Cowboy. The entire Park was a mystery begging to be solved. How could she ignore it? In the years after she was hired, the Nurse somehow obtained a key, and stuffed it down the throat of her handler, Darius. The key was found to not only open her boss’ filing cabinet, but also the bathroom that was located centrally in the Park between the four sections. This was also the bathroom in which she’d passed out the day previous, and she had once again been rescued by the Cowboy, who had pulled her unconscious ass back out the window. Additionally, the man she thought had been an Actor, Nathan, was apparently turned into a Pretender, and her boss Dale had had something to do with it.

Nathan had seemed harsh and cold initially, but after bringing him some food, he’d turned into a surprisingly sweet young man, appearances aside. That was something she was coming to learn was very important here – that appearances were deceiving. It was in the hopes of saving Nathan, and perhaps even others in the Park if they needed help, that Leah continued her investigation. She had documented some of her adventures in the Park on the internet and had been advised that she should carry iron, silver and laurel, given that the Pretenders were of supernatural origin and it was only practical to protect herself using those items. It was these items she left behind, in case they had caused her fainting spell, as she entered the bathroom at the center of the park for the second time with her coworkers in search of answers.

The building was cool and badly lit by the overhead florescent bulbs – they looked old, as though they hadn’t been changed since they’d been installed. The entire washroom looked unused – dusty but more or less clean. It had an earthy smell though, that was unusual. It was just as she’d seen it prior to her fainting spell and there was nothing out of the ordinary but for one locked stall with an old sign, upon which was written in faded writing ‘Cleaning Supplies’. There was no way to tell if the stall did indeed hold cleaning products, and the key that had worked on other important things did not work there.

Mitchell, who had tried the key, threw up his hands melodramatically and complained,

"What kinda shit is this? Fuck Dale, seriously. That guy uses one and the same key for the mystery restroom and the file cabinet in his office, but not for this thing?"

Maxine stepped up to rattle the door again, then looked back at him.

"Well, maybe it is just a regular supply storage, we should keep looking around. We might be missing what's actually important here,” she suggested.

As a group, the employees took another look around the small washroom, but there was nothing out of the ordinary save the locked door.

Oliver spoke from his spot near the door.

"Does anyone know a member of the cleaning staff by any chance? They might know something."

Caroline perked up and nodded. "Just a second," she muttered as she fumbled for her phone.

She fiddled with the screen for a long moment before putting the phone up to her ear. Audible to everyone was the beep signifying no signal. Caroline took it from her ear and frowned as she studied the screen. "There's no reception in here. I'll try outside,” she said as she rushed from the restroom.

"Huh,” Mitchell exclaimed, “it's weird that there's no reception. I know for sure there is in the employee restrooms.”

Leah grinned knowingly. There was really only one use for a phone in the bathroom.

"How so?" she asked.

He shrugged, avoiding meeting Leah’s teasing gaze.

"I get bored when I have to go for bigger business, okay?"

Anne rolled her eyes at their immaturity and interjected,

"Alright, no cell phone reception, the place clearly rejects otherwise protective objects and can even cause their bearer to pass out. There's obviously something sinister going on in here," Side-glancing at Leah, she added, "How are you feeling, by the way?"

Leah shrugged.

"I'm fine, I guess. I think it's because I left my stuff outside.”

"Well, good, but as soon as you start getting drowsy or anything like that, tell us, okay?" Anne patted Leah on the back and was just about to turn her attention back on the locked door in front of the group when she let out a startled gasp.

Everyone immediately turned to look at her and ask what was wrong, but all she had to do was hold up her hand. There was a large red stain on her palm.

"Leah," she whispered. "You're bleeding." She took a step back to examine her. "Holy shit... it's all over your shirt."

It was only when that it was called attention to that Leah noticed a sense of wetness on her skin. It felt more or less room temperature and she’d thought she’d only been sweating. She craned her neck to try and see what Anne meant. From her limited vantage point, Leah could spot prominent streaks of red out of the corner of her eye. It wasn’t enough, so she turned and rushed to the mirror so she could get a better look. Not only was Anne right, but it looked _bad_.

Through the white of her shirt were large splotches of crimson corresponding with where her tattoos were located. Leah had had her tattoos for years without issue, but now the ink and blood almost seemed to be seeping from her pores, slowly but steadily. With a panicked gasp, she frantically pulled her shirt over her shoulders and tossed it onto the ground, leaving her in her bra. Back to the mirror, she carefully touched the first tattoo on her shoulder, prodding for a wound. To her surprise, it didn’t hurt. She tried to breath deeply to calm herself and squinted into the mirror to try to discern the cause of the bleeding. Things had been strange up until then, but randomly bleeding tattoos was completely unexpected. Leah studied the blood in the mirror and she did not notice as her gaze became unfocused, nor as the voices of her co-workers slowly faded into the background. The mirror and the washroom with it slowly receded into tunnel vision and was overtaken by darkness. It felt like going to sleep – an unnoticeable transition between one reality to another. When she next blinked, Leah found herself in a thick forest illuminated only by the light of a full moon that sat heavily in the sky.

It felt cold, and Leah remembered quickly that she’d doffed her shirt, but as she crossed her arms, she was surprised to find herself in her park costume, the Monster Hunter garb. She looked down, noting it was complete with the whip coiled at her side. She glanced around, uncertain of where she was or even how she had gotten there. The woods were deep, dense, and dark. Despite the moon above, she couldn’t see far. There were no buildings or lights in sight, not even a path to tell her which way to go. She turned about for a moment before deciding to sit down. That was what one was supposed to do when lost, she’d read – stay where you were and hope for rescue. But the snap of a branch behind her stopped the movement. Leah stiffened in fear and studied the area where she had heard the noise for a minute before deciding it was a normal forest noise. She had to stay calm. Then there was another snap to her left. She whirled to face it, her hand drifting to the whip at her hip. 

Maybe it was just because she was alone in the dark, or perhaps the long unused instincts of ancestors past were waking up, but she felt watched. There was something just out of her field of view, observing, possibly stalking her. There was another snap to her right and she jumped and turned, wondering if running really was a bad idea. Supposedly running from a predator was not a good thing, but it really felt like a good thing right then. The air felt oppressive and muggy. Fear rose like bile in her throat and Leah could feel her heartbeat increasing and sweat forming at her back – or was that blood, still? How the hell did she get here from the bathroom, anyway? There was an especially loud snap behind her, and the sound of something tearing and rattling down the side of a tree. Her imagination suggested something with claws was rending the bark of a tree. She shivered and tried to keep her breathing even. You weren’t supposed to run from bears, right? That was a play-dead situation. But there were no survival guides when investigating inhuman creatures at a supernatural park, and there were especially no guides about suddenly finding yourself in the middle of a forest after being in said park. There was a loud crash behind her, and finally Leah gave up on reason and bolted forward, dodging through trees, over downed trunks, her hair and clothing snagging on branches that seemed to reach out to try to slow her down. She lost her hat somewhere along the way.

Despite her heartbeat thundering in her ears and the noise of her own passage through the forest, she could hear something behind her, snapping twigs, footfalls lighter than her own, but no less menacing when whatever it was seemed faster than her. She couldn’t take a chance to look behind herself – there were too many obstacles. Instead she ran, trying to ignore how her breath rattled in her chest. She’d been on the track team in high school, and she’d been good. Despite her strength now, she had let her endurance slide and it was definitely catching up to her here. She could feel the muscles in her legs burning, her steps beginning to falter. Each time a branch caught, she had a harder time making up for the lost inertia. There was hot, heavy breath bearing down on her neck. It smelled of dirt and petrichor. She could almost feel the claws ready to sink into her back. She swore she heard a huff, like a laugh, in her ear, and knowing she was nearly exhausted, Leah finally turned her head to see what was chasing her, to fight if necessary. She wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Upon taking her eyes off the path before her, a root snagged her boots and she tumbled over in a heap. In her terror, she shrugged off the collision and backed away on her hands and feet through the underbrush until her back hit what she thought was a tree. Her breathing was too fast and too loud, but she needed air. Wildly, Leah’s eyes tracked back and forth, looking for her pursuer. There was nothing.

“Shh, you’re safe now, Leah.”

Startled, Leah screamed and jumped from the source, which happened to be what she’d been sitting against – a pair of legs. Her eyes frantically studied the mystery person who’d snuck up on her.

The legs were clothed in jeans and cowboy boots and shadowed by a large, dark, canvas duster and cowboy hat. Pale blue eyes observed her with concern, and Leah instantly recognized the person the voice belonged to.

“You! What are you doing here, in… My dream?” What else could it be, really? Other than a hallucination. Or maybe she’d somehow teleported? Was that even a thing? She had nodded off in front of the mirror in the bathroom and now she was stuck in a forest. The entire Park mystery just kept getting stranger and stranger.

The Laughing Cowboy smirked.

“Do you often dream of me, Leah?” His voice was deep, with a mild Texas accent, but there was some sort of echo behind it, like distant thunder and the squeal of metal upon metal.

Leah jerked back in surprise, the Cowboy’s voice not having registered with her the first time he’d spoken.

“You talk! I mean, I just thought you couldn’t. Or, can you only talk in dreams? Or, am I hallucinating this? This is so weird. And no, I don’t! Dream of you, that is. No offense.”

He laughed and offered his hand to help her to her feet, and Leah accepted. She brushed her clothing off and regarded the Laughing Cowboy. He looked as he normally did at the Park, but for one addition – the duster. He replied,

“That’s a shame, because I dream of you, Leah.” He grinned and reached out to tilt her chin up as she blushed. “And I am able speak, when I am not forbidden my voice”. His tone turned sharp there, almost angry.

“How are you forbidden to speak? And if you are unable to speak, how are you doing so now?” she questioned, eager to turn the topic away so she could ignore his flirting. Unfortunately, it was not to be.

“That’s what I like about you, Leah. So clever, so curious. We can speak here because this isn’t real. A loop-hole of sorts.”

“But where are we? And how are we here? And why? We’ll be able to leave, right?”

The Cowboy offered his arm to Leah.

“Walk with me?” She took the proffered arm and they stepped forward, into a pathway through the trees that hadn’t been visible moments ago as she ran. He continued,

“You have been snooping around the Park. They do not like that, and I am worried for you, Leah. You are in danger – “

“Wait,” she interrupted, “is this about Upper Management?” At the Cowboy’s surprised look, she clarified, “Dale told me about them. A bit. The day you helped me when I was, um, drunk. Not my finest moment, I know, but…” She trailed off, uncertain if she should justify her actions then.

The Cowboy scowled.

“Dale –“The way he spit his name was full of disdain, “has no right to speak of that. He is making this worse. He is putting you in danger, Leah.”

“Well, he was drunk…” She admitted.

“His vice is no excuse. He has responsibilities. You are one of those, and he is failing in that regard.” He switched topics abruptly.

“There are other creatures that inhabit this world. Perhaps you would term them monsters, or unnatural, but they are older than your people. Do not provoke them. The items you carried when I found you yesterday – discard them! They are less protection for you than they are weapons, and you risk making them angry.” He turned to face her then, in the middle of a clearing fully lit by moonlight. “I think only of your safety, Leah. You returned to the room in the middle of the Park, didn’t you?” His eyes on her were fond.

“Well, yeah. I need to know what’s going on. I just want to help! Nathan is stuck where he is, and no one deserves that! And how did you get stuck in the Park? Who are you, really? Do the rest of the Pretenders need help?” She was looking earnestly up at the Cowboy, and Leah could swear he was paler now than a moment ago, his eyes lighter and very nearly iridescent in the moonlight.

He chuckled.

“You have a great heart.” He pressed one long finger onto her chest. Leah abruptly noticed how close they were together and backed up a step, flustered.

“You’re not answering my questions. And what do I call you? Cowboy isn’t a name.”

The Pretender tilted his head at her and studied her for a long moment before replying. 

“Call me Warin. And perhaps not all questions should be answered. You are putting yourself in the middle of business that is not yours, and for what? Your curiosity? That doe-eyed fool, Nathan? His fate is sealed. Yours is not yet finished.” He stepped back, turned and reached forward to pluck something off a bush. Leah took a closer look and realized he was picking berries. When he had a handful, he popped a few in his mouth and offered the rest to her. She noted then that his teeth weren’t a rotted black, nor was he drooling that awful black ichor. She shook her head at his offer, still feeling out of sorts from her panicked running earlier. While shaking her head, she missed the quick look of displeasure that crossed his face. He then shrugged and ate the rest.

“What do you mean by that? Is it too late to help Nathan? And what about me? I – uh, before you found me here, I was in that washroom, and my tattoos were bleeding! Do you know anything about why that might happen? I just want to know what’s going on here! Help me, please!” Leah pleaded.

Warin stepped up to her and ran the fingers of his right hand through her hair.

“Have I not helped you previous to this, Leah?” She nodded, and he continued, “Then know I shall continue to do so. You want to know the answers you seek?” When she nodded again, he sighed and rested his hand on her cheek. Though still unsettled by his presence, Leah couldn’t deny that his comfort under current circumstances was welcome.

“Nathan’s change is permanent. You cannot help him. Is there, by chance, iron in the pigments of your tattoos? I trust you have observed that iron is not welcome by those you term ‘Pretenders’. Nor is it welcome in that room you insist on visiting. Will you not leave it alone, now? All shall be well soon enough.” He stepped closer to her then, enough that Leah could smell the leather of his clothing, the sweet scent of berries on his breath, and something earthy, like the outside after a rain. She stood her ground, refusing to step back from the Cowboy again.

“No, I refuse to believe that it’s too late for Nathan! There’s got to be something! Anything!”

Warin ran a finger across the bridge of her nose and down her cheek.

“All this for the betrayed beloved of your manager, Leah? A man could get jealous!”

Leah blushed and considered putting more space between them but decided to stay where she was. She wasn’t in the habit of backing down. The Cowboy just looked amused. She studied him for a long moment. His hair looked less blond and more white, but it could have just been a trick of the moonlight. It was cute. Warin wasn’t anyone’s sane idea of an ideal boyfriend, and Leah was still discomforted by the idea of thinking of Warin as someone more human than he had always appeared to be at the Park, but here… Well, she’d had more than one shock, and he had saved her a few times in the past, as he’d confessed, so if she leaned into him here, then what happened in a dream, stayed in the dream. At this he looked pleased. And if she wasn’t mistaking his expression, he also seemed a little… besotted. He was taller than her by nearly a foot, so he had to lean down to whisper in her ear.

“Time to go.”

His breath against her skin made her shiver. Whether he noticed or not, he shifted so his mouth was close to hers. Leah swallowed drily. Their breath mixed, and then Leah nodded and closed her eyes. It was a surprise when Warin’s lips met hers quickly in a chaste, almost shy, kiss. She opened her eyes to look at him, but when she did, she found herself back in the washroom.

The noise came back to her first. Her coworkers, arguing. Anne in front of her, hands on her shoulders. Mitchell beside her. She licked her lips and tried to focus on what was going on. They felt sticky and tasted tart and sweet, like the berries the Cowboy had been eating. Her cheek stung.

“Oh, guys! I think she’s coming to! Leah, how do you feel, can you hear me?”

Leah nodded and put a hand to her cheek. Had the dream been real, or a hallucination? She chanced a look into the mirror but was met only by the reflections of Anne and herself.

“Yeah, what happened? One minute I was looking at my tattoos in the mirror, the next I, uh… I was in a dream? I don’t really know, actually, but I’m okay now. Really.”

Anne studied her with concern before retrieving a water bottle and pressing it into Leah’s hands.

“Here, drink. We were scared; you blanked out and we couldn’t move you – we tried to carry you out of here, but it was like you were made of cement, or something. You were like that for um, maybe fifteen minutes? I’m not sure, really. We were thinking of calling an ambulance but weren’t certain what to tell them. I, uh, I kinda slapped you? I’m sorry, Leah! I was trying to snap you out of it!” She looked absolutely miserable about it, and Leah forgave Anne for it. She wasn’t certain she’d have done anything different herself.

Leah drank deeply from the water bottle and looked down for the shirt she’d discarded what seemed like ages ago. Some of the blood had dried and she wondered absently how she was going to get it out of the fabric.

“It’s okay, Anne. I get it. Now, I think I just wanna go home and sleep.” Anne nodded and fussed over Leah a bit, but the group dispersed after leaving the bathroom. Anne told her to call her if Leah needed anything. It was agreed Mitchell would drive her home for the second time in just a few days.

Walking awkwardly with her arms crossed beside Mitchell, Leah swore she could feel eyes on her again, just as she had in the forest-dream. She took a glance back and saw nothing at first, but a far-away shadow shifted, and she turned to study it. It was the shape of a cowboy, tipping his hat in her direction. She felt her cheeks flame, and Leah whirled around to continue leaving the park. Dream or not, her legs felt like she’d run through a forest, and in her haste, Leah nearly fell over her own feet. Mitchell caught her and set her back down, but not before a sense of menace settled over both of them for just a second. Her co-worker shivered and glanced behind them. There was nothing there. They shrugged it off and continued to Mitchell’s car. Leah sat in the back, unwilling to make a mess of the vehicle. Once they were on the road, Mitchell spoke.

“Caroline called her friend who’s on the cleaning staff by the way. She says they got no idea about the locked stall either. Dale never gave them a key for it or anything.”

Tired, Leah just nodded slightly and continued to face the window.

“If you ask me, there’s gotta be something really insane behind that door,” Mitchell went on. “Like, maybe it’s a portal to hell or some shit and that’s where he pulled out the not-actors. That’d be crazy, right?”

She didn’t want to go into detail with what she’d experienced after looking into the mirror, but Leah couldn’t help but voice some of her concerns.

“What if… What if this is bad? What if we’re in over our heads? What if that was a warning, to stay away and mind our own business? I’m a little worried – but with the tattoo thing, I think something’s happening to me. I’m not sure what, or if it’s just my imagination... or if I should be worried at all. But I’m… Scared.”

Mitchell hummed and paused for a second as he parked his car in front of her apartment building.

“Even so, that’s just all the more reason to keep investigating, right? We’ll figure this out somehow. Let’s stay positive, okay?” He smiled reassuringly at Leah and watched her as she got out of the car to make sure she got into her apartment safely. Leah watched him pull away afterwards, almost sorry she didn’t ask him to stay with her for a bit. She got in without anyone seeing her in her bra and studied her shirt, uncertain as to whether it was a lost cause or not for washing.

Only ten minutes after Mitchell had left, her phone rang. When she picked up, she was more than surprised to hear Dale’s voice on the other end.

“Hey,” he said. Nothing else, just _hey_.

“Hi.” An awkward pause followed before Leah spoke up again. “Why are you calling?”

“I was wondering if you could come over tomorrow.”

“To your office?”

“No,” he replied, fumbling for words before adding, “To... uh, to my place. I’ll give you my address. We can drink. Or maybe we shouldn’t, after what happened last time. Actually, I just want to talk.”

He sounded sheepish and uncertain. Leah wasn’t sure if the events that had just occurred played any part in her manager reaching out, but if an opportunity like that was going to fall into her lap, then who was she to say no? She told Dale, yes.

“Good!” he sounded relieved. “Awesome. I’ll see you tomorrow at... uh... how about eight? In the evening of course.”

“Um, yeah. Eight’s good. I’ll be there.”

Without another word, he hung up. Leah stared into space for a moment, thinking about the warnings the Cowboy had given her, and all the questions he never really seemed to answer. Randomly bleeding all over the place was scary, as was becoming catatonic and dreaming a full conversation with a Pretender, but if she kept getting pulled into the park’s mysteries, who was she really, to refuse? She felt a strong sense of foreboding but kept telling herself it was her imagination. Exhausted from the day’s events, she gave up the shirt, showered, and went to bed. As she slept, she dreamt of the earth and of dwelling beneath it.


	4. A Drinking Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dale suggests a drinking game. Not terribly professional of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still mostly sticking to canon, but with some distinct and important changes. Hopefully it's not boring. The major changes are coming soon. Expect more romance and drama. I might actually have to change the warnings. The ending has changed three times now, which is rather fitting considering the title to this fic.

Leah awoke feeling both exhausted still, and restless. It was an odd combination, but the events of the past few days were probably just catching up with her. She kicked her blankets off and rose to shower and dress, careful not to look too long or hard into the mirror. Not only was she feeling vaguely uncomfortable with her reflection – like there was something off about it – but she did not want a repeat of what happened in the washroom yesterday. The incident in the mirror most likely only happened because it was in the park, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

After getting ready for the day (and most decidedly not wearing white), Leah headed to the convenience store to pick up a few items for Nathan, as well as to the butcher for meat for Mr. Scratch. For Nathan, she bought a fantasy book. She hadn’t asked what he liked to read, but she felt getting him something to pass the time was a good thing, and he seemed like the type to like sword and sorcery epics. The Sock Puppet would receive some beef bones and part of a shoulder cut. She debated getting something again for the Cowboy – Warin – but there was a discomfort she felt about their odd relationship she didn’t want to acknowledge yet, so Leah left for the park with only the gifts for Nathan and Mr. Scratch.

From the employee entrance she made her way first to the Sock Puppet’s cage. He perked up immediately after she entered the shed and waited patiently to be let out. Leah fed him, groomed him, and collared him to lead him out for some sun and exercise. It wasn’t anything concerning, but the beastly Pretender was a little more animated with her than usual – friendly, affectionate, and even cuddly. He hadn’t been that way when Leah first took the job, but lately Mr. Scratch was definitely more dog-like. Leah didn’t think too much of it; he was probably just getting more used to her as a handler. A little over an hour later and she re-caged the Sock Puppet so she could go see Nathan. Her charge gave a little whine in protest, but otherwise curled back up on his straw bed. On her way to the Western section, Leah grabbed her bag that she’d forgotten outside the washroom the night before.

Nathan and his coach were sitting in the shade of saloon when she found him. There was a smile on his lips as he watched her walk over. For all the difficulties she was facing while investigating the park, Leah couldn’t help but admit they were worth it when she thought of the change in him. He’d been surly and anti-social when she’d first met him, but now he was warm, friendly and open when she approached. She had a brief thought where she wondered if he was friends with any of the other employees – they now knew about his condition and had been working with him for years.

Leah smiled back up at him as she reached the foot of the coach. “Hi, Nathan! I brought you some things!” She pulled out the candy and book she’d bought earlier and handed them up.

"You're spoiling me," he said with a grin as he unwrapped a piece of bubblegum. "No, but seriously, thanks. You don't always have to bring me stuff though, you know. I appreciate the company most."

“Well, I thought you might be bored! And I know if I were you, I wouldn’t be able to go long without some chocolate! Umm, don’t you chat with the rest of the staff?”

Nathan scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “I, uh, I’m not really big on most other people’s company. Something about you is just, like, comfortable. Like a warm fire, you know? And that’s… A recent thing.”

Leah blushed. “Maybe just give them a shot? I’d hate to be your only friend; you really deserve so much more!”

He only smiled down at her in response. Leah cleared her throat and changed the subject.

“So, uh, Dale called me last night. He asked if I could meet him at his place. Didn’t say much more than that. What do you think- was I stupid to agree?”

Nathan looked off into the distance for a few moments, thinking. Leah hoped she wasn’t hurting him by bring up Dale so often. Being stuck in the park, away from his life had to be hard, especially when it was done to him by someone he trusted. Did Dale really have an excuse that pardoned such a betrayal? She was reminded of what Warin had said about Nathan. He’d called him ‘that doe-eyed fool’. Leah didn’t think he was foolish for trusting his boyfriend. But he did have the ‘doe-eyed’ bit correct. With candy, and without the surly stagecoach driver act, Nathan looked a lot younger and cuter. Leah could definitely see why Dale might have been attracted to him. The man in question turned back to her with a sigh.

“If you'd asked me before _this_ happened, I would've probably said there was no need to be worried. But... it happened, and I'm stuck here. We both know what he did to me. I don't know him anymore. Maybe I never did. I can't tell if he's gonna try and do something to you, but it's definitely possible. Don't be like me and let your guard down."

Leah nodded and confirmed, “I won’t.” She fiddled with her backpack for a moment, considering what the Cowboy had said, and her own curiosity. “Hey, can you do me a favor?”

Nathan snapped the gum in his mouth and replied, “Sure, what is it?”

“I was told these were more weapons than protection, but I need more information – can you hold these for a second?” She asked, grabbing the silver, laurel and iron from her pack and holding them up. “Careful!” she added, afraid to hurt him.

The stagecoach driver took the items gingerly, suddenly hissing and dropping the nail.

“Oh my god, did that hurt you? I’m so sorry!” She darted forward to look at Nathan’s hand, but Nathan just giggled and waved her off.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself. You looked so serious! Nah, these things don’t hurt me. Should they? Who calls some earrings and a stick weapons? The nail, maybe? Is this about the Pretenders?”

Leah let out a breath and giggled along with Nathan for a second before ducking to pick up the dropped nail. She collected the laurel and earrings from him after straightening up. Studying the items again, she was confused. “It _is_ about the Pretenders, but I’m not certain how these are supposed to hurt you, though I haven’t gone near some of the others with these. I’m not certain it’s a good idea, but I need more information. Thanks for your help though!”

“Any time, Leah!” He smiled brightly, but it dropped off his face just as quickly when he added, “Be careful tonight. Let someone know where you’ll be, please?”

She gathered the items back into her pack and pulled it onto her back, giving Nathan a reassuring smile. “I will, I’ll let you know how it went tomorrow.”

He nodded, and Leah left to go home for dinner before she met with Dale.

She prepared some pasta for herself, intent upon stuffing herself with carbs before possibly drinking again, since she apparently couldn’t hold her liquor and the food would help. She didn’t find herself very hungry though, despite not having eaten at all that day. That was a little odd, but she’d read that stress could kill a person’s appetite, so maybe it was fine. She’d just have to make sure to eat more tomorrow. She picked at her dinner, putting the leftovers in the fridge when it was time to leave. A quick text was shot to each of her coworkers to let them know where she’d be, then she left. Mitchell was to pick her up a couple hours later since transit was spotty that late.

The bus dropped her off a block from the address Dale had given her. She walked the distance slowly with nerves creating butterflies in her stomach. What could her boss possibly want to talk about besides the park? And would she like the answers? Well, there was only one way to find out. Dale’s apartment complex was moderately large, surrounded by a wrought-iron gate and shrubs. The neighbourhood was in a more well-to-do, upscale area that Leah couldn’t have hoped to rent in without a roommate or two. She entered the foyer and walked down a hall to his door where she rang the bell. Mere seconds later, Dale answered like he’d been waiting for her. If he was anywhere near as nervous as she was, he probably had been.

“Umm, hi,” Leah greeted him.

Dale blinked as though almost not believing she’d come. “Hello, um, I half-hoped you’d seen enough sense not to come – to leave this all alone. But come in, sit!” He gestured to the living room on his left. “I was just about to get another drink; can I get you one?”

Leah almost had to lean back as he talked because his breath reeked of alcohol. Something fruity. Leah didn’t drink really, but guessed by the smell that he’d been drinking wine. His clothing was rumpled like usual and he wore a bland combination of an off-white, long sleeve t-shirt, and khakis.

“I brought something, actually. And my own glass too, so just grab one for yourself.” She pulled her bag off her back and showed him the whiskey she’d bought from the convenience store while waiting for the bus. She hoped it didn’t taste too bad. A quick google search on her phone had told her that in general, cheap liquor would taste terrible, but the bottle she’d bought was on sale and was reputed not to taste too strongly, so Leah hoped it would do.

Dale raised an eyebrow at her and muttered, “Classy. But I understand. You’ve been talking with Nathan, right?” He disappeared around the corner for a moment before coming back with a glass.

Leah shrugged awkwardly at him. She didn’t need to tell him she didn’t trust him. She looked around as she took her shoes off and went to sit. His apartment was spacious and clean but seemed a little empty and impersonal. He had few knick-knacks and pictures, but the leather furniture was obviously a set, and there were some shelves with books and a television. There were also some coasters that had obviously gone unused on the coffee table as evidenced by the leftover rings of dried liquid. She set her whiskey and cup down on it and waited for Dale to situate himself.

“So, why did you call me here?” She asked.

Dale glanced up at her from his seat, but took a moment to answer, instead filling his glass with the liquor she’d brought and taking one large gulp from it before setting his cup down. He took a long, assessing look at her before saying, “Look. I’m not entirely blind to what goes on around the park. I can’t be. I know that you’ve been investigating, I know that you’ve been talking with Nathan, and I know that you’ve brought some things into the park that maybe aren’t the best idea – err, well maybe they are, in your case, but I’m worried for you. There’s a lot that you don’t know, can’t know, and I can’t tell you much. I know you don’t have any reason to, but please trust me. Stop snooping around and try not to antagonize the Pretenders.”

“How do you know that? And why would I trust you? You poisoned your boyfriend. I’m just trying to help him! And anyone else like him!”

Dale sighed and took another drink. “If I asked you to leave, to forget about the park, would you? If I fired you, would you be able to let this go?”

Leah froze in shock. The idea of losing her job almost brought tears to her eyes, and she was surprised by the intensity of feeling. She really loved her job. To leave would be terrible, especially now. She felt like she was so close to solving something, and then there was the Sock Puppet, and… She could barely admit it to herself, but there was also the Laughing Cowboy. “What!? I – would you fire me? I don’t want to go! I like this job, weirdness, and all. No, I wouldn’t want to go!”

“Alright, alright,” he placated. “I don’t want to fire you. Mr. Scratch likes you and you do a great job. But I’m serious, Leah. This is dangerous business you’re sticking your nose into. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” He blinked and took a drink before asking, “Have you noticed any oddness about your self lately - any weird changes? I think you know what I’m talking about.”

Leah paused again. If he was referring to the changes Nathan had spoken of, then she was scared she had to say yes. The mirror incident with Warin and her bleeding tattoos were hard to gloss over. But before she was able to answer, Dale took her silence as an admission and swore, running his hand over his chin.

“I’m limited in what help I can offer you – I’ve got two different managers breathing down my neck and they often want different things, so here’s something. Let’s play – let’s play a drinking game – something like Twenty Questions, but with different rules. You can ask me questions, anything you want. I will answer as best I can, but there are some things I can’t tell you. Every time you get an answer from me, I take a drink. Every time you have a question I can’t answer, you take a drink, and then I’m allowed to ask you one question. We must both answer truthfully. We continue until one of us is too drunk to continue or you run out of questions – deal?” He paused for a second before squinting at her. “You _do_ have a ride home, right?”

“Why a drinking game? Why can’t you answer questions normally? And why aren’t you able to answer certain questions? And yes, I do have a ride home.”

“Save those questions for the game, I promise I’ll answer as much as I can. For the next point, there are some things I literally cannot speak of. And good! Shall we begin?”

From his response about not being able to speak, Leah was abruptly reminded of Warin, who had been forbidden from using his voice. Was it related? “Uhh, sure,” she fumbled for the first question off the top of her head. “How much have you had to drink already?”

Dale raised his glass to her in a toast and answered, “Not nearly enough. Hence the drinking game. Next!”

He took a large gulp from his glass and Leah had the thought that maybe this game wouldn’t last very long at all. She cleared her throat and took a sip of her drink to fortify her nerves even though she technically wasn’t supposed to drink yet as per the game. It had a burn to it she found she didn’t mind, but the taste was much sharper than she was used to. She couldn’t decide if she liked it or not. Her first question was the one that gave her the most anxiety.

“Have you in the past or at any given point in time tried to poison me like Nathan or succeeded in an attempt to do so?”

Dale smiled grimly. “No.”

Leah breathed out heavily, not surprised at all by how relieved she was by the answer. A small tendril of anxiety twisted around her heart though as she recalled the incidents in the washroom, and the small incongruities she was facing now that seemed like they could add up. In any case, it was a good thing she’d thought to eat dinner since she now had proof that she couldn’t hold her liquor.

“Okay, so, why this game?”

“Upper Management are always watching. I can’t step out of line - they notice - and bad things, like _really_ bad things, happen. But games are something different for them – games are play and they don’t really take that seriously, so they are a bit lax in their supervision. It’s… Almost a loophole. But the game needs to have rules and consequences, which is also why we are drinking!” Dale raised his glass in a toast to her and took another drink, a smaller one this time.

“Alright, what rules do they make you follow?”

Dale immediately made a buzzer noise. It just reinforced how drunk Leah thought he might be. “Can’t say. Now, my turn! Why do you want to help Nathan?”

Leah grimaced and took a drink. “No one deserves what was done to him! I want to see if I can help him change back,” she answered.

He looked away and ran a hand down his face, hand audibly running through the stubble on his cheeks. “I know he doesn’t deserve it. I can’t figure out why you haven’t turned your back on this mess yet, after seeing what you’ve seen. I don’t know if he can be changed back. Dammit, but I wish he could. There isn’t anything I regret more than hurting him like that.” He sighed, then quietly said, “Next.”

“Why did you do that to Nathan? He looked so lost when I asked him about it. You should go talk to him; it might do you both some good.”

“I had to. There was no choice. I can’t really say more than that. And I… Talking to him would just hurt us both. It’s better for me to stay away.” He took another large sip.

Leah wasn’t satisfied with the lack of a concrete reason, but it would have to do. “Who or what is Upper Management?”

Dale shook his head. “I can’t say! Ask about my other manager, though. But I want to know how close you’ve gotten with the Laughing Cowboy.”

“Err, what?” She blushed and gaped at her manager.

“You know what I mean, Leah. Answer the question.”

“I, well, he has helped me out a bunch. Like, he’s distracted some of the other Pretenders when they got a little aggressive, and uh, he picked me up when I was a bit, uh… drunk, after that time in your office. He’s just,” she struggled for words to explain the Cowboy without going into the really strange encounter in the mirror in the central washroom. “He’s there when I need help.” Leah took a drink to wet her suddenly dry mouth.

There was a sour look to Dale’s face, but Leah couldn’t figure it out. “Be wary of who you trust, Leah. Not everyone has the best intentions for you.”

She gaped at him in confusion for a second before remembering it was her turn again. “How is it possible that I’m changing? I didn’t drink anything weird, you didn’t – you didn’t poison me.”

The older man shook his head sadly. “I don’t know.” He stumbled over his words next, fighting against what he wasn’t allowed to say, Leah thought. “I wasn’t told – I didn’t do anyth-“. Frustrated, Dale rubbed his face again, breathed out heavily, and took another drink. Then, “There were indications last Halloween, maybe before, but it shouldn’t be happening yet. I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s happening. It just shouldn’t be a thing, and I’m not – I’m stuck, right now!” He knocked back the rest of his drink and set the glass down hard on the table, rattling it. “Look, I’m trying to help you. Pay attention to what I’m asking because what I can’t say could hurt you, Leah. Might already be.” He made a motion with his hand for her to continue and poured himself more alcohol.

She had so many questions she wanted to ask; it was difficult to choose one. She decided to go back to Dale’s remark before asking about the Laughing Cowboy. “What do you want to tell me about your other manager?”

Dale smiled sadly. “I inherited this park – it runs in the family. My father ran it until he retired. In a way, he still runs it. The responsibility of running the park can be harsh, but the kids in the family are prepared for it from childhood. When I say I’m stuck, it’s also because of my family. If things go badly, not only could you be in danger if you continue entangling yourself with the Pretenders, but Nathan would very much be in danger… Well, I can’t say any more about that, but just know that I’m not heartless. I just, I’m trying to please two very different, err, masters, for lack of a better word.” He tapped his glass on the table in thought before taking another drink.

“I didn’t really think you could be completely heartless after hearing Nathan talk. I still think you should talk to him. But, um, is he the only Pretender you’ve caused?”

“Yes,” was all he said. He drank again.

“What about the others – when were they made?”

Her manager grimaced. “I can’t really say – you’ll have to be more specific.” Leah noticed his eyes were getting a little red and bleary as he looked at her.

“Why do you care so much? Nathan’s just… A victim. I couldn’t do anything for him. And someone is trying to take advantage of you. You shouldn’t… trust so easy,” he slurred a little.

“I – who –" Leah stuttered and gaped at his words, then said, "I mean, I care because Nathan is a nice person, once you get to know him, and... Why shouldn't I care? I feel badly for his situation, and what if, what if I end upllike that? Who would help me?“, His remarks had been confounding, but Leah didn't want to waste her question. Dale likely wouldn’t last much longer in this drinking game. By contrast, she’d not had much, which she was certain by design. "And in that vein, how do I stop from changing?”

Dale shook his head and pulled himself together a little. “I don’t think you can, but I’ll… I’ll try to keep you as… same as possible. Next. You better hurry.”

That wasn’t very reassuring, but she would take what she could get. “You mentioned Halloween – what was significant about it?”

Dale shrugged in an exaggerated manner. “One of the Upper Management types pointed you out. I think they find you interesting. Keep that in mind, Leah.”

“How can I protect myself from those things interested in me?”

“You’ve already got them – silver, iron, laurel… Also, red verbena, sage and salt. But… Maybe don’t carry those into that bathroom again; They got offended, and that’s _bad_.” There was an odd smile on Dale’s face as he said it, but Leah couldn’t parse why.

“So, what’s in the locked stall in that bathroom?”

“You _don’t_ want to know – stay out of there. It only leads to bad things.”

“Then who did I make angry?”

Dale hiccoughed and stood. “Cant’ say, but ‘scuse me- gotta piss.” He took a step toward the other room but staggered heavily against the wall. With a slight head tilt back toward her, he blearily commented, “Game’s over.” Then he continued in the other direction. Leah watched him with concern, but he made it to other room without falling. She heard a door click behind him and slowly sipped at the rest of her drink while she waited.

The time on her phone indicated she still had about half an hour before Mitchell arrived. Roughly five minutes passed, and Leah browsed the internet until there was a crash in the direction Dale had gone in. Concerned, he jumped to her feet and went looking for him.

“Dale? Are you alright?” She really hoped he hadn’t fallen while trying to use the washroom – that would be very awkward. There was silence. The door to what she thought might be the bathroom was ajar as she approached, and the light was still on.

“Dale?” Leah opened the door slowly.

Standing in front of the mirror, his business thankfully done, was her manager. He was staring sightlessly at what had been the mirror. Blood ran down his hand in rivulets where he’d punched it. Cautiously, she touched his shoulder.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

Dale was tense. But almost as soon as she’d touched him, he blinked and staggered backward a step.

“Fuuuck, I hate it when they do that.” He glanced at his hand, which was still outstretched. “Oww, I _really_ hate it when they do that!” He pulled it back carefully from the mirror and shook it lightly over the sink to dislodge the glass stuck in it. Several shards plinked into the porcelain, stained red.

“What? Oh, the mirror?” Leah asked, realizing that Dale had likely had an episode similar to her situation with the mirror a day ago. Was that common thing, dealing with the Pretenders?

The older man twisted the tap to run water over his hand and blinked a few times at her.

“You’ve had experiences with a mirror, too? Huh. That’s… Probably not good, Leah.” He was slurring again.

“How bad is it? Do we need to call an ambulance?” She tried peering at his wound, but it wasn’t clear through the running water that swirled down the drain pink.

“No, no, should be fine. No need. Would worry the folks too much, and we can’t have that.” He wobbled on his feet, and Leah was sure she should help him with bandaging it, since he seemed too drunk.

"Where’s your First Aid kit? I’ll bandage your hand.”

Dale waved to the cupboard at his feet. “Underneath.”

Leah pulled the door open and found the kit, which had been used quite extensively, if the depleted contents and general disarray was any indication. She was concerned – did he have these episodes often, and did they always hurt him? She pulled some gauze, tape, tweezers, and antiseptic out of the bag before setting it on the floor between her feet.

“Move your hand for a sec, please, I need to wash my hands.”

Dale complied, and Leah used the soap dispenser to lather her hands before rinsing them and grabbing for Dale’s injury.

“I need to see if there’s any glass left in there, hang on.” There were some small shards, but Leah thought she picked everything out before applying isopropyl alcohol to the wound, then some gauze, and sealing it with medical tape. Through it all, Dale’s half-focused eyes wandered around the bathroom, occasionally studying her. His gaze lingered on where the mirror had been, and he muttered,

“Maybe I won’t replace it this time…”

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she continued to bandage his hand. When she was finished, he said,

“Hmph, probably not the way you figured this would go. But seriously, just… Things aren’t what they seem, Leah. ‘Member that.”

Her phone beeped just as he finished talking, and Leah was suddenly reminded that she’d asked Mitchell to pick her up. That was probably him – the timing seemed right.

“I think that’s my ride. Watch your hand, check it in the morning to make sure I got all the glass out, alright?”

Dale nodded. “Go, I’ll be fine. Not my first rodeo.” There was a bitter, lopsided smile on his face as he said it.

Without a reply, Leah moved back to the living room to collect her mostly depleted whiskey and bag, before putting her shoes on and heading out the door. Mitchell was waiting near the main entrance. The walk to his car served to make her realize that she wasn’t exactly sober. She was rather thankful Dale’s game had put the brunt of drinking on him, but she felt guilty about that too, since encouraging an alcoholic couldn’t be a good thing. Her feet didn’t quite want to cooperate, and a crack in the sidewalk threatened to send her sprawling as she neared her destination. She tried to focus, to appear less intoxicated so that she didn’t worry her coworker.

“So, how did it go? No icky goo? Did you get the answers you were looking for?” Mitchell asked after Leah opened the door and gracelessly slumped into the passenger seat. She took a deep breath and answered,

“Okay, I think. We played a drinking game, but I need, um, I need to sleep this off before I can think about his answers. No weird drinks. Take me home, please?”

Mitchell turned to study her for a sec before deciding she really was okay. With a smile, he put the car in drive and pulled out onto the street.

“Not much of a drinker, huh?”

“I guess not,” she yawned.

They pulled up in front of her own apartment roughly ten minutes later, and Leah got out after thanking her coworker. She told him she’d text him and the others in the morning. Then she went inside and fell into bed. Her sleep was dreamless this time.


End file.
